


Paladin's Oath

by AlexSeanchai (EllieMurasaki)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Autistic Character, F/F, Turkic Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13297431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/AlexSeanchai
Summary: When she got out of these chains in this over-the-top silk-and-gold sitting room, Aylin thought, she was going to rend that accursed azmych limb from metaphysical limb and render him forsoap.—She paused; the thought was uncharacteristically vicious, and something wasn'trightabout it...Well, she'd warn the azmych to change his traveler-disorienting ways. And if she ever in her lifetime heard that this particular road spirit had so much as sent someone in circles that delayed them half an hour,thenshe would rend him in pieces and render him for soap.That was better.





	Paladin's Oath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irusu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irusu/gifts).



"You know I'm good for it," Kanchana told the knife-maker merchant Nilima, in a casual manner that suggested the woman was some friend of hers, or at least a good acquaintance.

Aylin frowned at her companion. She knew perfectly well Kanchana didn't presently have two copper coins to clink together, having emptied her purse on last night's wine.

"And you're always good as your word," said Nilima. Her tone seemed pleased; Aylin suspected sarcasm but would be hard put to prove it. "I'll expect forty-five gold in payment within the year, then, in installments of course, and you'll mark here for my records—?"

Where in the name of all Gün Ana's sparkly nail paints was Kanchana expecting to get _forty-five gold_ in a _single year_? No cadı's luck-spell could bring that much coin to one door! Aylin's whole _hometown_ of four thousand souls would be hard-pressed to come up with forty-five gold in a year without every soul among them going hungry!

(Aylin had tried such a money-drawing luck-spell once, as a child, though she hadn't hardly been _forty-five gold_ worth of ambitious. Old Gülistan had told her later Aylin nearly died.)

But Kanchana was coming away from the merchant's table with the precious knife in hand, sheathing its rosy-golden blade in plain leather and concealing the mother-of-pearl-inlaid handle with an equally plain pouch. "You'll thank me later," Kanchana told Aylin cheerfully, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet.

...This was certainly so. Aylin rather wanted to thank her now! Or, rather, prove to her own satisfaction that the blade was _real Korinthos khalkos_ , not simple bronze plated with a copper-gold alloy, and _then_ thank her profusely and neverendingly.

"How do you plan to pay for it?" Aylin asked in an undertone. "Steal a temple?"

Kanchana threw her half a roguish grin. "Why, Aylin, I'm offended!"

* * *

When she got out of these chains in this over-the-top silk-and-gold sitting room, Aylin thought, she was going to rend that accursed azmych limb from metaphysical limb and render him for _soap_.

—She paused; the thought was uncharacteristically vicious, and something wasn't right about it...

Well, she'd warn the azmych to change his traveler-disorienting ways. And if she ever in her lifetime heard that this particular road spirit had so much as sent someone in circles that delayed them half an hour, _then_ she would rend him in pieces and render him for soap.

That was better.

Would that he had only delayed them half an hour! Aylin didn't know where Kanchana was, other than 'not chained here', and Aylin couldn't put so much as a _scratch_ on these chains, divine spellcaster or _no_.

—Another thought to give her pause. Aylin loudly thought a prayer to Gün Ana, another to Mergen—so how would _Mergen_ think His way out of these chains?

Chains that were—perhaps— _designed_ to hold divine spellcasters?

What Aylin needed was a _witch. A simple witch, no more—not sworn and not oathbound—but no less. Not a paladin, but a cadı._

(Or a rogue with a set of lockpicks—but _where_ was Kanchana?)

The door clicked open, and Aylin lifted her head. The man who entered might be someone from Aylin's hometown, or from anywhere less than a hundred miles' travel from the place of Aylin's birth, and she did not know his face.

"Aylin," said he. "Paladin oathbound to Gün Ana. You and your companion have been quite impossible to find."

Were Aylin not gagged—

"I am Barış," he said. "Paladin oathbound to Alaz, Who has commanded me to burn all wickedness from this nation."

That rang infuriatingly _wrong_.

"I must, of course," he continued, his tone gentle, mild, "give you due warning that your path is not just, nor merciful, nor beloved of the Gods. If you give your word that you will change your course, I have leave to set you free."

Barış moved closer, slowly, slowly. Aylin, nerves afire, listened intently to each tiny sound.

He drew a key from his pocket, a silver-hued lever-lock key with a glittering red stone where bow met stem, and tapped the flat bits on the metal that crossed Aylin's right cheek. (A spelled key, then.) The gag melted away, he dropped the key in his pocket, and she took a moment to grimace in several different ways before looking up at him.

"In what way," Aylin asked, thoughtfully, "must I change my path to fit the Gods' commands?"

Barış smiled. "That thief you travel with," he said.

Aylin flinched.

"Ah," said Barış. "So you guess."

"She saved my life," Aylin said: the truth and nothing less. "I owe her a debt."

"It is canceled," said Barış with a sharp gesture. "You owe her nothing but her death at your hand."

No. No. _No. No._ **No.**

( _Think like a cadı,_ whispered the back of her mind.)

—Suppose Barış were speaking only truth and nothing more, she thought, and it should be that he were; people didn't lie about being paladins, because that public proclamation came with certain expectations.

So: break her lifedebt-contract with Kanchana, or break her oath to Gün Ana.

_Not_ the sort of choice any paladin ever cared to face!

( _Think like a cadı,_ whispered the back of her mind.)

—Suppose.

Suppose Barış were _lying_.

For what reason, then, could he want Kanchana dead, and Aylin's hand to kill her?

Stall for time. Old Gülistan would say the same.

"How," she began, and stopped, throat dry.

Barış drew a flask from his belt, uncapped it, and with his other hand tilted up Aylin's head to pour its contents in her mouth.

_Gün Ana, may this be water, nothing more and nothing less,_ thought Aylin with half her focus.

( _Think like a cadı,_ whispered the back of her mind.)

It took no divine spellcraft to make water safe to drink. Only words and cadı strength. And the spoken words, she thought, were optional.

A moment—two—and Aylin felt the magic flare inside her mouthful of water. Only then did she dare swallow.

Barış smiled: a hard look, almost cruel.

"How," repeated Aylin, "do I know you tell me truth, nothing more and nothing less?"

He glared at her. "If you do not trust another paladin's word, how can I trust yours?"

Aylin said nothing. _I don't suppose you can_ seemed unwise.

The sound of the door closing behind Barış echoed, and echoed, and echoed.

Aylin did not let her eyes slide left to where that glittering-red-and-silver key rested, concealed by a flicker of magic—indeed, she _could_ not; dared not, and further, was prevented.

Thinking like a cadı, indeed.

He hadn't thought to put the gag back in, either. Good. She still needed Kanchana and a set of lockpicks, though, even if it would double her debt—

Kanchana couldn't be dead. Not quite. Not yet. Not if Barış wanted her dead by _Aylin's_ hand—

Why would anyone want _Kanchana_ dead?

Always cheerful, smooth, and sly—always gentle, kind, and wry—

_Oh, Tagh Baianai,_ she thought, _I've fallen in love._

Paladins weren't forbidden to. Exactly. But it wasn't wise. Zarlık might command a judgment passed against a paladin's lover or beloved, with only that very paladin near enough to be Her hand in bringing justice, and that conflict might...strain...the paladin in question.

So if Barış were telling the truth—

_If_ Barış were telling the truth, what reason would he have to keep her chained, and _not_ to tell her what wrong required justice done, what justice meant Kanchana's death at Aylin's hand?

Funny how the least disturbing part of that was 'at Aylin's hand', she thought idly. A death-blow could be done mercifully, and she knew well how.

But first, she had to _know_.

Which meant she had to get _out_.

Which meant sneaking the key invisibly through the air, guided by her will and cadı magic, until it could click against the lock on the chains—

_Good._

Kanchana had taught her how to move with absolute silence. A focused amusement, nothing more, Aylin had thought. After all, _Aylin_ wouldn't be taking up Kanchana's trade, only watching to make sure Kanchana only stole from those who'd earned their wealth by theft.

(Even so! Forty-five gold didn't grow on date palms!)

Absolute silence, and the cadı trick of look-away, and Aylin had the freedom of the—palace?

Surely nowhere but a palace could be this absurdly _lavish_.

Where was Kanchana?

To say nothing of their assorted _weaponry_!

No cadı worth their salt _didn't_ know a spell to find that which was lost—not that 'stolen' was the same as 'lost'. And if anyone had recognized Nilima's blade as Korinthos khalkos, then it was protected by every anti-theft enchantment its current possessors could devise!

—So use the spell to find _Kanchana_.

Around two corners and down a staircase and through the third door on the left, and there she was—bound with spells alone, it seemed. Kanchana startled mightily (for Kanchana) when Aylin relaxed the look-away and whispered "Follow me," but she followed, unhesitant. Aylin extended the look-away to cover her as well.

"Do you know what's happened?" Kanchana whispered. "I haven't seen a single soul since we were on the road."

"A paladin oathbound to Alaz—" began Aylin.

"—Not Barış?"

Aylin stopped short and Kanchana ran right into her.

"The very same," whispered Aylin, getting moving again in the direction that their ordinary weaponry and gear might be found. "I think. He claims."

Truth was a tricky thing, after all. She could truthfully report he'd said his name was Barış, but not that his name was Barış, and certainly not that he was the same Barış Kanchana knew.

"The same, I'm sure," Kanchana muttered. "I'll get him this time."

"He says, to uphold my oaths, I must execute you."

The quality of silence changed behind her.

"Are you," Kanchana started to say, and stopped; Aylin looked back and saw her trembling several steps away. "Are you _warning_ me?"

Honestly, because she could do no less, Aylin answered, "Need I be?"

Kanchana stumbled sideways and slumped against the corridor wall.

"I don't know," whispered Kanchana. "I don't know."

Aylin moved closer, slowly, gently, trying not to spook her. When Kanchana didn't move, Aylin sank down beside her, almost close enough to be touching.

"The Korinthos knife," Kanchana said at last. "It's—Barış—" She stopped.

"Tell me," Aylin whispered. "Please. I can't do what's right if I don't know the truth."

Tears glittered in Kanchana's one visible eye. "What if what you think is right—"

Zarlık save her. Either of them. Both. Gün Ana, shed some _light_.

"I don't know how to answer you," Aylin whispered. "I don't know if you want to hear I'll keep my oaths or I'll help you. I don't know which is _true_."

Kanchana swallowed a sob. "You'll do as you think the Gods command," she replied, a dull sound. "The knife. Nilima's knife—it's stolen."

And wasn't that a horrid shock. Not. "From whom?"

"Originally? Or most recently?"

"Most recently it was stolen from _us_ ," Aylin observed.

A small laugh. "Before that."

"Both, I think."

"Originally—it's supposed to have been forged in flames Od Ana lit," Kanchana murmured, "for a paladin of Zarlık to wield. But someone stole it from her. There are stories where it turns up, but it's always gone again."

That argued it _wasn't_ the Korinthos khalkos it seemed. A question for later. "How did your friend Nilima get it?"

Kanchana waved an idle hand. "Her cousin's lover's best friend's daughter heard I was traveling with a paladin. So the girl stole it from Barış, and now I owe Nilima forty-five silver." She swallowed hard. "I hope they're all still alive."

Aylin had never known Kanchana to lie. Hoping that—and not a desire to believe a would-be beloved over a stranger, even if he _was_ a paladin—was behind Aylin's inclination to believe Kanchana over Barış, she pressed on: "Why would Barış want me to kill you?"

Kanchana turned to look at her. "Isn't it obvious?"

Not as such. Rather than answer, Aylin said, "Can you walk? We still need to get our gear."

"True," muttered Kanchana, and pulled herself to her feet. Aylin rose and led the way, following the cadı find-me pull.

Outside the room where their packs lay, Barış waited.

"I see I can't trust you at all," he said, snapping Aylin's look-away. "Pity. I had _so_ hoped."

"What reason have you given _me_ to trust _you_?" Aylin asked.

Barış eyed her, incredulous. "What paladin fails to trust another?"

Aylin pointedly raised her eyebrows and stared at the bridge of his nose. Shadows from the dancing flame of a wall lamp flickered across his face.

(Think like a cadı. Stall for time.)

"Oh, oh," said Barış, laughing a little. "You don't understand."

"I would welcome an explanation."

"Alaz commands me," Barış said, as though that explained it all—as indeed it should, if true—, "to gather all _true_ paladins to aid Him in His task to burn all wickedness from this nation. I had to know whether you are _true_."

"And what have you learned?" Aylin asked, affecting a pose of unconcern.

"If only you would kill that thief you travel with—"

He stopped.

"Where _is_ that thief?"

"I warn you now," said Aylin, stern. _Now_ she understood. "Turn back from this path, or face justice dealt by one oathbound to Gün Ana."

Barış glared at her. "You have _been_ warned." He reached for his pocket, clearly expecting that silver-red key—found nothing, of course, for it was in Aylin's boot—drew a steel blade instead—

He startled forward—spun around to face Kanchana: Aylin's plain dagger she had buried in his back—

Aylin snapped out a burst of cadı magic, find-me and lift-me both—

The rosy-golden blade flashed flame-gold in the lamplight as it flew to meet his heart.

Barış stumbled forward. Fell.

Blood seeped across the floor.

A long still silence.

"Are you all right?" Kanchana asked.

"No," Aylin said at once. "He—"

She stopped, moved forward, wrested her plain dagger from the corpse. It bore no trace of blood.

"I would venture the guess," Aylin said, thoughtfully, "that he was no paladin; and if he were, it was not Alaz he swore to, and not Alaz Who bound him."

Kanchana stared down at the corpse, visibly nerving herself. She dropped to one knee, and turned over the body, and wrapped her hand around the mother-of-pearl-inlaid hilt. And stilled.

"Aylin," she murmured.

Aylin leaned down to wrap one hand around Kanchana's and draw the holy knife from the flesh of someone who, perhaps, could only die by such a blade. She put her other hand on Kanchana's shoulder.

"Kanchana," she replied.

* * *

Barış's remains they burned outside the city. The azmych that had led them into his grasp had seen them coming and _fled_ ; perhaps it had overheard Aylin's silent threats to rend and render him?

They camped that night by a riverbank, some half-day's walk down the road. "You don't think there's a khyrtyq?" Kanchana asked, picking up a bottle to go refill.

Aylin raised her eyebrows. "You don't think a malicious river spirit is enough to overcome us?"

Kanchana glanced at Aylin's hip, where the holy knife hung, and snorted. "No, I suppose not. Inconvenient if there is one, though."

Her gaze lingered on the curve of Aylin's hip, and slid away.

"Kanchana," said Aylin, and stopped.

"Hm?"

"I don't think," said Aylin, and stopped again. When her words were in the right order, she began: "I think Barış didn't only want me to kill you to break my oath."

"Wouldn't that be enough?" Kanchana asked, sounding skeptical.

"Maybe," Aylin said. "Maybe he particularly wanted me to break my oath by killing an innocent I love."

Kanchana stilled.

Aylin, nerves afire, waited.

At last Kanchana laughed. "You have the _worst_ pick-up lines," she said, and nodded at the holy blade. "Wrap that hilt in plain leather. Sheathe the blade the same. I do _not_ want to deal with the sort of thief who _doesn't_ travel with paladins. They might stick you full of holes to get something shiny like that. You _whine_ when you're bleeding."

"What I'm hearing," said Aylin, voice low, "and stop me if I'm wrong, is 'Aylin, I love you too.'"

Kanchana gave her a broad, roguish grin. "What, and admit you stole my heart? I am a self-respecting _thief_ , Aylin. I'm offended!"


End file.
